Do or die time: Trampled by Turtles members quit their day jobs

On first encounter, Trampled by Turtles might sound like bluegrass legends in the making. Except nobody threw panties onstage at Bill Monroe's show.

The Duluth foursome stretches the bluegrass template with its youth, sardonic humor and indie rock backgrounds.

The result is a boiling pit of thrashing undergrads at Trampled by Turtles' live shows. The result is plucky Radiohead covers with mandolin solos. The result is the occasional panty-throwing or flashing incident, which is not common at concerts where the instruments are acoustic and nobody's wearing leather pants.

``At the end of the show, she (the panty thrower) came up, asked for them back and put them back on right in front of us,'' said Dave Simonett, the band's 24-year-old guitarist and main songwriter.

``It started out as this great rock `n' roll moment and then it all went south fast.''

But energy and antics shouldn't detract from the fact that all four band members are serious musicians who earned respect from hardcore bluegrass fans and newbies alike with their debut CD, ``Songs From a Ghost Town,'' released February 2004. ``They, along with Charlie Parr, are definitely our best-selling local artists by a large margin,'' said Jeff Myers, music manager at Barnes and Noble Bookstore in Duluth.

Recently, all four band members quit their day jobs. They quit their other bands. It's time to do or get trampled. With a new CD, ``Blue Sky and the Devil,'' the band hopes to continue spreading rock-influenced bluegrass to the masses, one rocking banjo number at a time. ACCIDENTAL GRASS Their popularity may imply that the Trampled by Turtles guys are calculating geniuses who capitalized on a trendy genre. Instead, the story of how they got together reveals a serendipitous car wreck of talent.

Three played in rock bands and wanted to do something acoustic on the side to ``give their ears a break.''

Mandolin player Erik Berry, 30, was playing guitar with the Castle Band in 2003 when he met Simonett, the night's opening act. Soon after, Berry, Simonett and bassist Tim Saxhaug (a former member of Dukes of Hubbard) booked a gig at Fitger's Brewhouse, which is where they met their banjo player. ``I'd been playing along in my head, and after four or five beers, I asked if I could play with them,'' said Dave Carroll, 22.

With a father who played mandolin, Carroll is the only band member raised on bluegrass. Berry had his come-to-bluegrass moment at a Ricky Skaggs concert. ``I bought a mandolin soon after,'' Berry said. ``I wanted to at least play enough to be considered a competent hack.''

Trampled by Turtles' first gig as a foursome was a mellow show with 20 or so people during 2003's Homegrown Music Festival. After that, as Simonett said, ``Word of mouth was our best friend.''

A key factor in their fast rise is their ability to tailor shows to the venue, practically inciting riots at places such as The Tap Room and playing low-key, traditional bluegrass concerts for seat-bound audiences at places such as Sacred Heart Music Center. So when people ask them to describe their music, band members usually hem and haw and look around at each other.

``I guess it depends on who we're talking to,'' Berry said. ``To venues we say we're original, nontraditional bluegrass. But if Ricky Skaggs were sitting here, we'd be backpedaling.'' SONGS STAND ALONE, MOSTLY Berry believes Trampled by Turtles has risen above the bluegrass crop mainly because of Simonett's songwriting.

Simonett will talk about the pairs of panties thrown on stage (one), groupies (``No, no, no, none''), the Duluth music scene (``kicks ass''). He'll talk about nearly anything -- except his songs.

When cornered, he admits a track on the new disc called ``Codeine'' is about his experiences with the drug, then declines to comment further.

``I mean, I didn't check myself in or anything,'' he said. ``You know, my mom's going to read this and I don't want to upset her by getting into details.''

After a question about the hoedown-worthy ``I'm a Target Too,'' a person could practically hear Simonett's jaw snap shut. ``Well, it's just a stupid little pet peeve -- I don't like to talk about what it's about.''

OK. Moving on.

The album stretches like a rubberband from the harmonic, sweet waltz of ``Blue Sky and the Devil'' to the urgent ``Burn for Free'' to the abject surrender of ``Codeine.'' The song is sung to the drug as if it were a woman: ``I finally found a friend/ Codeine, Codeine/ you're the nicest thing I've seen/ for awhile.''

Since the first album, Simonett said the band has developed a more energetic live show, instrument mastery and a darker tone lyrically. ``But I don't want to dwell on the lyrics and have people think I'm trying to be some dark rock star,'' he said.

The band's songs are undeniably bluegrass even though the meat of the songs isn't about living in Appalachia or surviving the Great Depression. Berry points out that bluegrass' major themes of loss, love and nostalgia can be written for modern audiences and still have relevancy and continuity with bluegrass' traditional songbook.

Trying to prove that relevancy to a new fan base is the current challenge. Band members believe their biggest obstacle may be that as they tour, venues won't buy into the fact that their bluegrass music has appeal for the young and tragically hip.

The band got over that hump on the Duluth scene by sharing gigs with their friends' groups, such the Keepaways, a punk band. Minneapolis venues are proving more reluctant, but the band's been chipping away. They've recently booked venues like O'Gara's in St. Paul, where they'll play April 10 with Cyro Baptista and Beat the Donkey, a 10-piece percussion ensemble. No lie.

``Personally, I can only listen to bluegrass so long,'' Simonett said.